Short Poems

When I look
at the wisteria blossoms
I think of long ago,
the Nara emperors,
the emperors of Kyoto

These wisterias
have blossomed early—
the Kameido wisterias
won't be out for
ten days or more

The sprays of wisteria
arranged in the vase
are so short
they don't reach

Before the
red blossoms
of the peonies,
the wisteria's purple
comes into bloom

I've forgotten
my begging bowl
but no one would take it
no one would take it—
how sad for my begging bowl.

If wishes would carry me over the land,
I would ride with free bridle today,
I would greet every tree with a grasp of my hand,
I would drink of each river, & swim in each bay.

What times of sweetnesse this faire day fore-shows,
When as the Lilly marries with the Rose!
What next is lookt for? but we all sho'd see
To spring from these a sweet Posterity.

Thou art a plant sprung up to wither never,
But like a Laurell, to grow green for ever.

God He refuseth no man; but makes way
For All that now come, or hereafter may.

The Clock strikes one that just struck two—
Some schism in the Sum—
A Vagabond for Genesis
Has wrecked the Pendulum—